


Freak

by EmilyKellen



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, PWP, University, Young Sally, Young Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:31:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyKellen/pseuds/EmilyKellen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was no secret that Sally Donovan hated Sherlock Holmes. He was a smug, arrogant bastard who showed them up on every opportunity he could. Despite all that though, that wasn't the reason she despised him.</p><p>A fic exploring my theory on the history between Sally Donovan and Sherlock Holmes, but basically just a vehicle for some PWP as I deal with writer's block on my main work-in-progress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was no secret that Sally Donovan hated Sherlock Holmes. She'd made that clear ever since the first time he'd stepped beyond the crime scene tape. No one questioned it, a lot of people hated him. He was a smug, arrogant bastard who showed them up on every opportunity he could, and he was not at all contrite about it. Despite all that though, that wasn't the reason she despised him.

***

It had begun innocuously enough. Sally had always wanted to be a barrister, though it turned out studying law was harder than she anticipated.

Everyone had thought he was weird, and he was, but his mind was remarkable and he always got the highest marks. She needed a tutor, and more subconsciously, she figured he wouldn't be one to refuse a pretty girl, seeing as how he didn't seem to have any friends.

At first, it was a perfectly average arrangement: she'd visit his dorm after classes and they'd review. This continued their entire first year, and they'd managed to develop something almost like a friendship.

When their grades had come in, Sally had run directly to his dorm, ecstatic over achieving the highest grades she'd ever gotten. He answered the door and she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him. To her surprise, he returned her embrace.

They stayed in that position for far longer than was necessary, and when he started to pull away, Sally felt like a switch had been flipped in her head. How had she not noticed his deep, piercing eyes or his full lips or his thick, dark hair before? Running on adrenaline and reckless abandon, Sally pulled him back toward her and kissed him.

She could tell that the kiss had surprised him, she felt his arms loosen and for a moment was afraid that she'd just done the exact wrong thing. However, those fears were relieved when she felt his arms tighten again, and his mouth responded to hers.

The kiss was greedy and sloppy, fuelled solely by adolescent lust. Sally was able to kick the door closed as Sherlock dragged her into his room as their hands explored and groped at each other. They fell towards the bed awkwardly. Sally was unsure of exactly what her intentions were when she kissed him, but she had stopped thinking coherently and was entirely caught up in the sensations sparking through her.

She jolted when she felt his hands against her bare waist. At some point he'd worked his hands under her jumper and tugged her blouse out from her skirt. His hands were warm, and shot electricity straight through her to her core. Sally responded in kind by moving her hands from where they'd been entangled in his hair and pushed the dressing gown off his shoulders before working their way under the collar of his t-shirt to the skin below. The thought that this would be the first time she'd seen him in his apartment without his silly dressing gown flitted through her head and she smiled against his mouth. This seemed to catch his attention and he broke their kiss.

"What do you want?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't the type to actively pursue a romantic or sexual relationship, but he wasn't a monk -- he had no problem taking what was freely given.
> 
> So, not quite as PWP as I had intended, but things just kind of go their own way and I just kind of let them.

Sherlock felt her breath hitch at his question. While he wasn't expecting anything, he was enjoying himself and preferred not to see things end right away. His hands moved up back and he pulled her tighter to him before biting the tender caramel skin of her neck. Gasping, she breathed out "more." He flashed her a feral grin and crushed his mouth back to hers.

Sherlock wasn't entirely sure why she had kissed him. He knew he was different, and he knew the reputation he had developed on campus: he was not nice, he didn't try to fit in, and he didn't care if he came off as superior. As far as he was concerned, he was, and he felt the whole university experience beneath him. He was certainly not the type that would be chased after romantically.

He'd agreed to tutor Sally Donovan out of boredom, at least at first. She quickly proved herself to be exceptional. She was smart enough and she worked hard to prove herself to him, and even though she often underestimated her own abilities, he'd come to respect her for taking it seriously. She was also the only girl who'd come to him for help without using her sexuality, even though objectively she was attractive enough to be able to.

When she'd hugged him, he'd been caught off guard, but he allowed himself to enjoy the closeness of it. He figured that would be the end of it, so when she'd kissed him, his mind quickly flashed through all the possible motivations she might've had before he realized it was probably an act of gratitude and responded. He wasn't the type to actively pursue a romantic or sexual relationship, but he wasn't a monk -- he had no problem taking what was freely given. 

Sally nipped his lower lip, drawing his attention. Even while his mind was distracted, his body was not, and he was aware of how uncomfortable he was getting. His hands were still under her shirt, feeling their way over her back, but in one smooth movement he pulled her jumper and her blouse over her head. 

Sherlock took a moment to look at her more closely as she kneeled before him on the bed. Her cheeks were flushed, her already full lips plumped even further. The crisp white of her bra stood out in marked contrast to her caramel skin, even more so through her heavy breathing, and her tightly curled brown-black hair was disheveled. 

He noticed the slightest hint of doubt flicker across her eyes, and he realized he'd been watching her far longer than he'd thought. Sherlock knew they were nearing the point of no return, and so through his own heavy breaths he asked her, "are you sure?"


End file.
